


Imperium

by Dopple_Girl



Category: Banana Bus Squad, Derp Crew - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Background ships like Krinx, Implied! MaskedMexican, M/M, More characters to add as story continues, Side project mostly, also zeroyalchaos, mafia au I guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-10-19 06:27:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10634160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dopple_Girl/pseuds/Dopple_Girl
Summary: Chicago was supposed to be an escape.Chicago was supposed to help him forget.Chicago was supposed to make him feel better.Chicago ended up becoming a battleground.And Max was standing right in the line of fire.OrMax goes to Chicago to clear his mind from his recent breakup with Ryan. However, his life ends up becoming entangled with a man he only knows as Seananners.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Why do I keep writing new fanfics? I can never keep up with them. 
> 
> And now I'm going to post word counts. Yay!
> 
> Word Count: 1,479

The shot glass was thrown down on the counter with a little more forceful than Max had meant it. He moved his finger slowly around the rim as a way to distract himself from all the singles looking to score tonight, chatting away with hope in their voices that tonight was the night they were getting laid. He wasn't one of those people. No, Max here was drinking until he couldn't remember in the morning. He hasn't really been that drunk in a while. 

"Another shot, sir?" The bartender asked. Max didn't look up all the way, just enough that he saw the man behind the counter grab his empty glass as he slid it forward. 

"Budweiser this time." He stated blatantly. 

"And can I have a martini?" A familiar voice asked, making Max sit up straighter. The bartender nodded as he went to prepare the drinks. "Thanks Anthony." He replied as he slid into the seat next to Max. 

"What are you doing here?" Max grumbled, and the man gave him a questioning glare. 

"I grew up here, Max." He replied. "Did you forget that in your haste to leave?" Max's dark brown eyes shot up to meet steady hazel ones. He bit his lip, before focusing again on the countertop of the bar. The other laughed, and tried to wrap a arm around Max. He shoved it away before it got too close. 

"I came to Chicago to get away from you, Ryan." He stated as the bartender, Anthony, placed a beer bottle in front of him and a martini in front of Ryan. "You think showing up here and having a few drinks with me will make it all those problems go away?" He waved his hands as if to indicate his words, before reaching for the beer. He took a swish, before glancing back at the oddly quiet Ryan. "Well?"

"Maybe, I don't know." He answered, leaning forward on his elbow with the martini in hand. "Depends on well you work with me."

"I'm not going back." Max half yelled. "Nothing you say will make me change my mind." Ryan sighed, turning his position around so he could see the other patrons. 

"I'd figured you'd say that. You were so ... strong willed, Maxie."

"Don't call me that." Max interrupted angrily, but Ryan simply ignored him. 

"Maybe there's someone here who's like me. Just simply looking for a one nighter to wash away their troubles." Ryan took a sip from his martini, stirring the already stirred drink even more. 

"That's so like you." Max muttered softly, so Ryan wouldn't hear him. "I don't think talking to me is helping your situation, though."

"I'm just letting people see the goods before offering up my services." Ryan stated as he rose. He leaned in toward Max, who flinched away at the other man's closeness. Ryan saw this and backed away. "Besides, if anyone asks you're just someone I used to know."

Max watched as Ryan walked away to the bathrooms. He sighed, his head falling comfortably into the crook of his elbow. He was tempted to follow him, to flag him down and beg for him to take him back. But what they had wasn't real, and Max knew that. He promised himself, and Renee, that he wouldn't go back to him again. If he couldn't do it for himself than the least he could do was to do it for her. 

"Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, you had to walk into his." Anthony comments, making Max glance up and take in the bartender. He looked like the fresh out of college type, with dark brown almost black hair and a slight stubble. "Sorry. Couldn't help myself."

"Hey, man. It's fine." Max assured him, and the nervous smile on Anthony's face faded into a genuine one. "What are you misquoting, by the way?"

"Casablanca. It's from the forties. Me and my boyfriend love that movie." Anthony said excitedly as he worked on another drink. "You should watch it some with your ..."

"Let me stop you right there." Max interrupted. "Ryan is an ex of mine. Honestly the only reason I'm still here right now is because it's the only bar within walking distance of my hotel." He took another swig of his beer. "I'll going to be here until you cut me off, last call, or I become so drunk I can't stand properly. Whichever comes first. 

"Well, that's makes this a lot easier." Anthony muttered as he pulled a napkin out of his uniform pocket. He slid it across the countered toward Max, who eyed it quizzically. There was a phone number scrawled neatly on it in black pen, which was impressive considering what it was written on. 

"What's this?"

"Phone number of the guy at the end of the bar." Max turned in his seat to look at the guy. Shaved down light brown, almost reddish, hair, with a slight stubble like Anthony's. The guy was playing with the tiny umbrella in his drink, occasionally glancing expectantly at the bartender. 

"Guy couldn't give me his number himself?" Max asked, arching an eyebrow. 

"Ask him that." Anthony said, walking away to help another patron. Max threw another glance at the bathrooms where Ryan was, before rising and heading toward the guy who had given him his number. Once the guy noticed him approaching, his neutral expression turned into a cocky grin as he watched Max approach. 

"Can I help you?" He asked mockingly, the shit eating grin still on his face. He knew why Max was over here, and Max knew that he did. 

"Care to explain the middle man?" He asked as he slipped into the seat next to the guy. He raised the napkin, before putting it on the counter between them. 

"Sorry if I didn't want to assume your romantically status with him." He gestured somewhere behind Max, and the latter turned to see Ryan chatting up some guy a few tables town. "I've had my fair share of trouble and he's not someone I want to start it with."

"You cause a lot of trouble?" Max asked as Anthony slid over his beer. He nodded in thanks as he took a swig. 

"Maybe ..." He smirked. "Why don't you try that number I gave you." Max smiled back, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He typed the number into a new contact slot, then looked at the man expectantly. 

"You've got a name?"

"Just message me yours." Max's eyebrow arched up, but he ignored the questioning feeling for now as he typed the message out. A single chime sounded as the man pulled out his own phone. "Max. Short for anything?"

"Just Max." He confirmed, and the man nodded. "You going to give me yours now?"

The man opened his mouth to speak, but his phone suddenly rang. The music came out too soft for anyone else to hear but Max. It also caused him to allow a chuckle to escape. 

"Darude Sandstorm? Seriously?" He laughed as the guy stood up to take the call. 

"You're the one who recognized it." He snapped back before answering. "Hello? ... Oh hey, Michelle. It's been a while, how've you been? ... Ok, give me two minutes." The man brought his phone down, looking at Max straight in the eyes. 

"Sorry about not being a long enough distraction, but I've got to go." He ran his hand through Max's black hair before rushing past him. "Hope to see you later, Maxie!"

"Don't call me that!" He yelled after him. 

"Try and stop me!" With that, he disappeared out the door. Max sat there, a dumbfounded look on his face and his eyes still looking at the door. Well, he did want to get his mind off Ryan tonight. 

"Um, sir?" Anthony asked, snapping Max out of his daze. 

"Please, call me Max." He finished off the last of his beer, placing the empty bottle in front of Anthony. 

"Another one?"

"Give me a Shirley Temple."

"I thought you wanted to get drunk tonight, Max." Anthony inquired as he went to get started on Max's order. 

"The plan was to get my mind off Ryan. And he certainly accomplished that. Thanks." The last bit was to Anthony placing his drink in front of him. Max, instead of drinking it, opted to play with the cherry. 

"Who was he, anyways?" Anthony asked. 

"You don't know him?" The bartender shook his head. "Damn. I thought you would have." Max shook his head as he took a sip of his drink. "Guy didn't even give me his goddamn name."

"Hey, at least you have his number." Anthony pointed out, his gaze drifting toward the napkin that still sat between where the mystery man once was and him. 

"Yeah. At least I have his number."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, for the record, I don't have anything against Delirious or anyone for the matter. I just felt like they could be a good ... opposition for this. Don't want to say villains because nobody really is one, right?
> 
> Also, feel free to leave comments. I read every single one even if don't respond to most of them. They brighten up anyone's day. 
> 
> Word Count: 1,208

"Excuse me?" A man asked, tapping Max on the shoulder. Max turned, half hoping it was that guy from the other night. It wasn't though, and Max knew it. His voice wasn't right, it didn't have that same level of cockiness to it. The man now, unlike the man before, had bright blue eyes and short messy black hair like Max's. His features were sharper and more defined, where the guy from the bar had softer ones. "Got a light?"

"Yeah, sure. Give me a second." He pulled the lighter he always had on him out of his pocket, the cigarette pack slipping out a little as well. He tossed it to the man, who fumbled with it for longer than necessary before catching it. He smiled at Max as he flicked it on after his third attempt. Lighting the cigarette, he took a long drag before handing the lighter back to Max. 

"You smoke?" He asked innocently, and Max nodded as he pulled out a pack. He took a cigarette and slid the rest of the box back into his back pocket. 

"Just don't tell Amanda or Renee." He replied as he lit up. "They'd kill me if they found out." The other man cracked a smile. 

"I don't know who you are, or know any Amanda's or Renee's." He slapped Max on the side on the arm playfully. "Your secret's safe with me."

"Not like it's much of a secret. Just that they hate that I do this, and drink." Max corrected. "Not as much as smoking, but still."

"Oh that's where I recognized you from!" The man exclaimed, slapping his forehead with his free hand. "You were in the bar the other night. The ... the one just down the street."

"Yeah, I was. I'm Max, by the way." He held his hand out, cigarette in the corner of his mouth. 

"Jonathan, but most people call me Jon." He shook, than took one more drag before tossing the stub away. "Sorry. It's been bugging me." 

"It's fine." Max tossed away his own stub as a thought popped into his own head. "Hey, did you see the guy I was taking to last night?"

"Yeah, I did actually." Jonathan said, dragging out his words. Max looked at him questioningly, but he continued talking. "I was kinda wondering how much you knew about him."

Max cursed to himself silently. "Nothing honestly. I was about to ask you the same question." He threw his hands in his pockets, and he saw Jon stare at him with eyes like bright blue daggers. Next thing Max knew, Jon has closed the small gap between. One hand was to the right side of his head while the other gripped firmly at his shoulder and pushed him against the nearest wall. 

"I think you are lying!" He yelled, almost hissing out the last word. Max could almost feel the beads of sweat beginning to build up on his forehead. "Tell me what you know!"

"Look, I don't know anything. The guy gave me his number, we talked for a little, then someone called him and left." Max explained. Jon squinted at him, trying to see if he was lying. "Guy didn't even tell me his name. And besides, if I knew anything about him, then why would I ask you the same thing you asked me." 

Jon didn't say a word, just let go of Max and slowly walked away. Max let go of a breath he'd been holding it. He opened his mouth to thank Jon, when he started to laugh. It took Max back, because it sounded so ... psychotic was the only word he could think of. It was the same word he thought of when Jonathan turned around with a gun trained at Max's forehead. Max instinctively took a step back, his hands going forward in a somewhat surrendering gesture. 

"Why are you pointing a gun at me?" Max asked as his eyes widened. 

"Why are you still lying to me?!?!" Jonathan echoed. "I saw you at the bar. Ryan saw you. There's no way it was that casual, Maxie." He sneered the last word, almost as if it was an insult. Max wanted to tell him off, but it was in his best interest not to piss off the guy with the gun. 

"Look, if this is about Ryan, then we bro..." Max started, but Jonathan interrupted him. 

"This is not about goddamn Ohm." He yelled. "This is about him. Now tell me what you know!" He jabbed the gun toward Max, who backed away more at the motion. 

"How is this any of your concern!?" Max shouted, fear trickling into his voice. 

"It's not." A third voice interjected. Max glanced left and saw the man from the bar pointing his own gun at Jon. His voice sounded serious, lacking all the lightheartedness it held in the bar. He looked like hitman, with a white button shirt and red tie with no jacket. Max didn't change his expression at this new development. 

"Seananners." Jonathan growled. "I should have know you'd be clever enough to not give anything important way. 

"Drop the weapon, Delirious. This business does not involve you." 

"What? You trying to recruit another one? You think we're gunna just let that happen?"

"What the fuck?" Max whispered, although neither men seemed to hear him. 

"You don't know what I'm doing" Seananners stated. "You have no idea what happens inside my head." Delirious laughed, and Max saw why he was called Delirious. The name fit him perfect. 

"You're right. I can't read your mind." Delirious confirmed. "But you know what?" He waited, letting the silence drift over them. "Neither. Can. You."

The next thing Max knows is that there is a searing pain coursing through him. He heard the gunshot, but it didn't exactly register with him that he was sho until his hand felt the warm blood that was leaking onto his chest. He saw Jonathan run away as colors began to sweep the sides of his peripherals. 

"Chilled!" Seananners called out. "Max needs you right now!" He then took off in the direction Delirious went. Max saw Anthony from the bar come over just as he felt his knees giving way. 

"Don't say my name." He said and he tucked himself under Max's arm for support. 

"I though ... you didn't ... know him." Max managed to get out as he felt the dark of unconsciousness creep closing around him. 

"I lied. I need to in order to survive in this city." Anthony deadpanned. Max felt himself lean more heavily on the bartender as they tried to move. "Are you ... going to able to move?"

"I don't think so." He admitted. The pain was practically enveloping him now like it was a part of him, the rest of his blood and organs. He was trying to fight against it, but his body wanted him to give in so badly. 

"Shit. Oh god ... I need Krism for this shit." Anthony muttered as he pulled out his phone. He tried to move Max along at the same time, but Max was almost limp at this point. "Hey! Stay with me buddy."

"Too late." He got out before darkness engulfed him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what it's like to be shot in the stomach (obviously). Sorry if the details are inaccurate, which they most likely are. Most of the inspiration comes from a vague recollection of details of the Season 3 finale of BBC Sherlock. 
> 
> Word Count: 1005

Beep. 

Max woke to calmness. He felt relaxed and refreshed as he lay down. But he didn't remember getting in bed nor coming home and panic filled his mind. He looked around the plain white room, finally aware enough to absorb his surroundings. There was an IV in his arm, an oxygen mask on his face and he was dressed in a plain hospital gown. His hand drifted to his stomach, where a firm layer of bandages lay over the wound. Wires and machines were hooked up to both his arms and his chest, monitoring his vitals. 

"I can explain."

Max turned his head to see Seananners sitting on a chair next to him. He wore casual clothes, nothing more than a t-shirt and jeans, but there was still a layer of professionalism to him. He held a solemn look towards Max yet his face had a cocky grin to it. Max wanted to say something, but he was afraid to take off the oxygen mask. 

"I know you have questions, but right now is not the best time for me to answer them. Every second is one that I put both of us at risk." Max points to his mask, and Seananners seems to get the message that he wants to respond.   
He looks up to behind Max, and the latter turns that way as well. A nurse with caramel smooth skin, even darker brown hair, and what looked like one red eye stood, occasionally checking his vitals. 

"He's still unstable. I wouldn't, but only because I don't know how he'd react." The nurse replied. 

"Thanks Krism." Seananners sighed, before staring at Max. "She's going to take care of you." He assured. "One of ... one of mine." Max was sure he was going to say the good guys, but the lines weren't clearly drawn out yet. "You can trust her." Max glanced over at the nurse. She smiled once more before leaving the room. 

Beep. 

"Look." Adam interjected into the silence. "I understand this ... is a lot. It's a lot to take in. But I can assure you ... actually no, I really can't. But I'm pretty sure you'll be out of here in a few days max, Max." He laughed a little, the dolphin like sound infectious. "Anyways, after Krism or one of the other doctors dismisses you, you've got two choices.

"One thing you can do is go home. Forget about anything that's happened here and let bygones be bygones. I'll ... I'll try my best to make this all seem like a bad dream. The other option is to stay. Stay here and become caught up in ... what would you call it? A war? Vendetta? I'll figure out a good word later. Either way, people like Delirious aren't going to stop. They'll keep fighting trying to get an angle on me, and most likely that's going through you." Seananners chuckled a little. "It's like the Matrix. Red pill or blue pill."

Max didn't say anything, mainly because he couldn't with the mask. But he wanted to speak his mind. There were just so many questions flowing though it that needed answers. Why was he a target? How safe was he? What did Delirious/Jonathan want in all this? Who was the man in front of him?But all he could do was lay contently as Seananners sighed and rose from his seat. He walked toward the door but stopped right before it. 

"I don't think I formally introduced myself in that ... mess." He said. "The name's Seananners, but everyone just calls me Nanners or Nano. And no, I won't tell you my real name." With that, he left Max to his own devices. 

Beep. 

<•>

It was a few hours before anyone entered the room. Max had been simply dozing off, fazing in and out of consciousness. He was going to try and fall back asleep but instead heard someone enter the room. He assumed it was Krism, and almost didn't pay much mind to it until a man spoke a few seconds later. 

"I ... I don't know if I can do this." The man, off to Max's left, was about his height, with brown hair down the center parted off to one side. His brown eyes darted around with worry, mostly darting between Max and the door. He didn't belong as evident by the bright tank top under the doctor's coat. 

Max was so absorbed in the stranger that he didn't readily resister the burning pain that surged through him. It wasn't until the stranger apologized to him that he noticed what was wrong. The IV that was his arm now rested in the man's hand. Max let out a muffled groan through gritted teeth. 

Beep. 

"I'm so sorry." The man apologized again. Max reached to his left for the left for the help button, but a 2nd stranger grabbed it and pulled it out of his reach. His skin was tanned, though a mostly red and white jacket covered most of it. His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses while his black hair was spiked up almost perfectly. 

"Shhhh" He whispered, just enough that Max could hear. "You don't need that." Max didn't know whether he was talking about the call button or the oxygen mask the first stranger took off his face. Either was, his heart rate had spiked as adrenaline surged through his system in panic. His breaths became short, staggered and wheezy. His hands instinctually flew to his wound, hovering over the spot so as the men would touch it. 

"This is a warning." The second one, the leader, directed at Max. "Don't get involved. Next time there will me no mercy." He made a gesture, and both men left. 

Beep. 

Max felt himself fading. He let out a scream as his whole body felt like it was on fire. 

Beep. 

He heard people, presumably doctors and nurses, scrambling around him as his vision constricted. 

Beep. 

For the second time that week, Max let pain consume him. 

Beep. 

Beep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have no idea how long most of this chapter has been sitting on my phone waiting to be finished. Hope it's good enough. 
> 
> Word Count: 1359

What was he going to do now?

That was the first question that floated up in Max's head as he stepped out of the hospital for the first time in 2 weeks. His body was still healing, but he was patched up enough for the doctor's to feel comfortable enough to leave him alone. But now he to face the choice Seananners presented him in the hospital.

Stay or go?

His rational mind was telling him to leave. Leave this city behind and just go back to his old life in San Francisco. He could relax at home with Amanda or Renee and forget about everything that has happened since the second he stepped on the plane. But he's still going to have to find a way to explain the gunshot wound to everyone. Or, there was the option to stay. He could figure out why Jonathan, or Delirious as he seemed to be called, shot him. Join in a war he didn't know existed. Figure role Ryan had in it (Delirious had call him Ohm, hadn't he?). Maybe even debunk who Nanners was.

Either way, he couldn't keep standing in front of the hospital forever. He had to move. He needed to think. So, despite barely knowing the city without some form of map, his feet started moving on autopilot. His hands dove deeper into the pockets of the jacket he was given as the cold breeze stung his exposed cheeks. He kept his head down, barely aware of where he wandered until his feet decided to stop.

They decided to take him to a park after about 20 minutes of walking. Nothing fancy, just some benches and a playground for families. There were runners and bikers on the concrete trails, and students taking refuge under some of the few trees in the city to study. Music came from some street performers to his left, and there were street venders selling pretzels and hotdogs. The place was calming and full of life. He sat down on a bench away from it all, trying to think of what he was going to do.

"Are you okay?"

There was a young twenty something sitting next to Max, startling him a little. He had dull green eyes and brown hair, which was only evident by his beard. The rest of his hair was covered by a hand knit red Viking hat. He smiled, and looked genuinely concerned about Max. He didn't know if he was aligned or not and which side the stranger was on, so he scooted a little away.

"Do I know you?" Max asked, and the stranger laughed a little.

"No. I just sometimes come here and see if someone just needs another person to talk to." The stranger smiled.

"Well, I'm fine." He snapped back. "Thank you very much." The stranger nodded, but didn't make any move to leave. Max leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his face buried his hands. His fingers mindlessly played with his hair as if it was going to make the situation better.

"It's just ..." Max began, "I was given a choice. One to stay here and one to go home. I was given the option a while ago, but even though there's no deadline I feel like I have to choose now. And ... And my brain is telling me one thing but my heart is, unfortunately, leading me in another direction and I don't know what to do."

"Well, what's one thing that both your heart and head agree on?" The stranger suggested, swinging his legs back and forth as he gripped the bench.

"That they are both really confused." This caused the man to laugh again. It wasn't like Nanners laugh, but softer. He could very easily see someone falling in love with that laugh.

"Anything else? Take your time." Max grew silent, trying to think if there was anything he was certain about. Nothing really seemed clear at the moment considering his world had seemingly flipped like a pancake.

"I just have so many questions." He mumbled aloud. "And I just want someone to give me a straight answer without being cryptic for once."

"I ... might be able to help." The stranger replied, holding his hand out to Max. "Name's Ze. Well it's not actually Ze, but you know."

"Max." They shook hands. "So, do you work with ..?" His thought trailed off. He didn't want to say any sides, mainly because he didn't know what sides there was besides Nanners' side. Lucky for him, Ze seemed to know the rest of the question.

"Yes, I work with Nanners. He actually asked me to watch you after you were checked out of the hospital. Help you with your questions and make sure nothing happened." Max nodded, trying to find his tongue.

"What ... exactly started this?" He asked first.

"I want to say booze, but I'm not positive. This whole thing started during prohibition and has continued to ... well, now."

"What would I be getting myself into?"

"Hitting the stereotypical questions, are we?"

"Just asking the questions I'm most likely to actually get answers to."

"Touché. It would depend on your skills, and where Sark and Nanners see fit." Max raised an eyebrow, it dropped it quickly as Max answered the question quickly. "Sark is Nanners' second in command. Anyways, some people do hands on field work, others are better with tech stuff like me, we have a couple of sleeper agents, and some handle the negotiations."

"Negotiations?"

"What, you think what we do is legal?" Max shook his head. He honestly wasn't expecting much less. This was a gang, he was talking about joining. One that probably dealt with drugs and definitely handled guns. And shot people like Jonathan did him.

He was making a choice. Of keeping and losing. And he was really leaning toward joining. He was practically taking his old life and throwing it out the window. To leave the stable life of Renee and Amanda and the rest of his friends back up in California for a life that could get killed or arrested for pretty much everything he did. But he wanted it.

Because of Seananners.

Seananners, the man with no name. The man with a Cheshire Cat grin and a laugh like a dolphin. The man who could be both lighthearted and deadly serious. Nanners was an enigma that Max simply wanted to unwrap like a present on Christmas. Max was more than intrigued by him.

He was almost positive he was in love with Seananners.

"I can understand if you're hesitant." Ze said, interrupting Max's train of thought. "If you need time,..."

"I want to join." He blurted out. Ze looked shocked by the sudden response. "And I mean it, I want to join."

"I not questioning it. You just seem really quick to jump on it." Ze breathed, seeming getting his thoughts together. "Do you remember the question?"

"What question?" Max was confused. There were a lot of questions that he had. He couldn't exactly know which question Ze was referring too. Then again, he hadn't exactly asked that many questions.

"Nanners, for some reason, likes to phrase the decision in the form of a question." Ze explained. "Usually pop culture related. For me, it was Coke or Pepsi. My boyfriend got XBox or PlayStation. I think Minx even got the question Republican or Democrat. You just have to text him the answer."

Max only waited a second before pulling up Nanner's contact on his phone. Someone had put the name Seananners in for him; probably Krism or the man himself. Also in the previous messages, Nanners had sent him one message.

From: _Have you made your choice?_

Max found it a little creepy, but he had been holed in a hospital for a few weeks. He wanted to scroll through the other messages that had come his way during those weeks from the family and friends wondering where he was after three days had passed. But he needed to get his answer to Adam.

To: _I'll take the red pill. Let's see how deep this rabbit hole goes._

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/nevergiveupgirl924  
> ^^^  
> That's my Tumblr, if you want to follow it. I might post some one-shots if you request. 
> 
> (I'll stop with the shameless promo now.)


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